The Things We Deserve
by cougarlips
Summary: "Sasha was the first to meet them; if she didn't recognise the motorcycle, she absolutely recognised the man steering and the one sitting behind him. Kal opened the gates and the Alexandria woman rushed out to meet them, Enid and Maggie coming out of their trailer at the commotion stirring at their arrival." implied/referenced child abuse, physical abuse, general abuse, and torture


**a/n** : this is mostly canon compliant and set during 7x08, but let's pretend jesus drove the motorcycle back to the hilltop and not daryl.

* * *

Jesus was worried. And anxious. And nervous. And scared.

Each word fit and each was true.

For one, the Daryl he met and the Daryl who negotiated with him at Hilltop would never have willingly wrapped his arms around Jesus's torso to keep from falling off the motorcycle - _if_ he would have let Jesus drive at all - not to mention the fact that Negan was at Alexandria, and Gregory was already put up with Sasha, Maggie, and Enid staying at the Hilltop.

It didn't help that the escape from the compound was _too_ easy and that was _with_ the weight of Big Joe's corpse on his mind, and Daryl's adrenaline was fading fast. With every passing second Jesus grew more worried he would slide off of the motorcycle.

Finally arriving at the Hilltop _would_ have been a relief if Jesus didn't have all these thoughts running through his mind at once.

Sasha was the first to meet them; if she didn't recognise the motorcycle, she absolutely recognised the man steering and the one sitting behind him. Kal opened the gates and the Alexandria woman rushed out to meet them, Enid and Maggie coming out of their trailer at the commotion stirring at their arrival.

Daryl's friends gently guided him towards the medical trailer, the stress clear as day in their eyes, but Harlan promised them Daryl's sluggishness was only related to his exhaustion. He was dehydrated and malnourished, but perhaps no more than the average human anymore. (Or, rather, no more than he would be if he _hadn't_ come from a stable community.) He needed water, food, and rest - preferably in that order - if he was to begin recuperating.

Daryl didn't speak to them, though. He acknowledged when Maggie and Sasha spoke to him, proving he understood what they said, but he didn't talk, grunt, or make any real noise. He could only drink about half a bottle of water. He barely ate half a sandwich before he pushed the plate away.

(At the queasy look on his face, part of Jesus wanted to ask what the Saviors gave Daryl to eat, but the smarter, more rational part of his mind knew he didn't _really_ want to know the answer to that question.)

But Daryl did, much to the surprise of Maggie and Sasha, agree to take a shower.

The three sat in the other end of the trailer while Daryl took his time in the bathroom, silence between them. What could they say to each other that would have made any impact? Maggie'd known Daryl since before Rick's daughter was born; Sasha'd known him since Judith was barely a week old.

Maggie said with pain clear in her face, "Daryl feels _so much_. He's never been so… quiet like this."

Sasha added, "I'll give him his silence, because yeah, he doesn't talk much, but he's always shown how he felt in other ways, you know? Actions speaking louder than words, and all…."

Then the shower cut off, and a minute later Daryl stepped out in jeans and boots, his torso bare.

Maggie and Sasha looked at him hopefully but all he did was drape the spare shirt over the table and rifle through the small closet for another.

But while the girls exchanged glances, Jesus found himself staring at Daryl's back, at the demons over his shoulder and the scars that marred his skin.

It took all of a few seconds for everything he knew about Daryl Dixon to fall into place: Why he looked to Rick before making a decision or speaking out or following through with an order, why he was so reluctant to initiate anything, why he had so little care for his own life, why he would gladly die for the people who cared about _him_ so much. Why he was so dedicated to his group's cause.

Why it was so clear that he hated himself.

Jesus watched Daryl finally settle on a shirt, yanking his arms through the sleeves and buttoning the front with clumsy fingers, hiding the skin underneath the faded blue fabric. He turned around and looked toward them. He looked at Sasha first, then at Maggie. He couldn't meet her eyes, but she didn't push and the slight nod of his head at the two of them left them all teary eyed.

He _did_ meet Jesus's eyes, and it was a look Jesus wished he would never have to see again on Daryl Dixon's face. A look that said he owed Jesus his life.

Maggie and Sasha stood and left the two alone in the trailer, and after they left Daryl's fists clenched shut and then released, over and over again until he finally found the words, "Thank you. For… helpin' me get away."

Jesus thought to stand up, to level the playing field and meet Daryl halfway, but ultimately decided against it. This was Daryl's moment, not his. This was for Daryl to take the initiative, not him.

"You don't deserve what they did to you," he told Daryl.

He wasn't altogether surprised at the way Daryl flinched at his words, but it still tore through him like salt in an open wound, and he thought again to the scars underneath Daryl's borrowed shirt and how Daryl must have felt, believing he _did_ deserve it.

Slowly, Jesus stood up, letting Daryl process his every move so Jesus knew when to stop if it made him nervous. He found his way in front of Daryl, looking up at him with so serious a look he could hardly breathe.

He repeated, the words now coming out like a promise and a swear. "You _don't_ deserve what happened to you."


End file.
